


rest for the weary

by oceanaa



Series: The Adventures of Rey (Djarin-Skywalker) [3]
Category: Star Wars - All Media Types, The Mandalorian (TV)
Genre: (can technically be read as a standalone if ur brave), Established Relationship, Filler/missing scene, Hurt/Comfort, Keldabe Kiss, M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-02-04
Updated: 2021-02-04
Packaged: 2021-03-15 16:48:45
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,064
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29192562
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/oceanaa/pseuds/oceanaa
Summary: “But for now-“ he started, but Din’s breathy, tired laugh interrupted him.“Rest, I know.”After Rey's capture, they must recover.
Relationships: Din Djarin/Luke Skywalker
Series: The Adventures of Rey (Djarin-Skywalker) [3]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2102853
Comments: 7
Kudos: 134





	rest for the weary

**Author's Note:**

> tldr if u dont wanna read 36k of bs before this: little rescued rey got captured by empire scum and theyre sad about it (spoiler alert things will b ok)
> 
> One (1) person mentioned wanting more din n luke in a comment and this happened while i was on a lunch break
> 
> this is the first of a whole handful of lame plotless oneshots ive written for this au :) get ready boys. lets start her off w some good ol h/c and forhead touches

It took nearly a full day to clean up the mess the Imperial remnants left in the wake of Rey’s capture. Except, it wasn’t a capture, it was a _surrender._ The word felt heavy in Luke’s chest as he tossed the last broken piece of dark trooper onto the pile in the middle of the small clearing the ship’s crash created. Din’s ship was nothing more than scrap metal now, no better than the horrible dark troopers.

The pile of stormtrooper bodies and armor still smoldered, and the blaster mark on Luke’s side twinged with a dull ache. Worry and fear threatened to claw at his mind, but the emotions were not for himself; his family was, once again, threatened by the Empire, the very evil he’d tried so hard to eradicate.

Sick to his stomach, Luke wrapped his cloak tightly around his aching body and began the slow walk back to the settlement.

His X-wing looked lonely now without Din and Leia’s ships to keep it company. It had a few scorch marks, and one wing desperately needed repairs, but only superficial ones. Artoo was already working from his place on the ship, sparks flying. He would join Artoo to finish the repairs soon, but first, he had more pressing matters to attend to.

When he went inside Din’s (his) house, he instantly rushed forward to where the Mandalorian was holding himself up against the table, trying to fit his armor over his broken body.

“You are _injured,”_ hissed Luke as he pulled the beskar pieces out of Din’s shaking hands. “You need to rest until Leia returns to get us.”

The helmet might not have shown any expressions, but Luke could feel the frustration and anger and _sadness_ rolling off of Din in thick, cloying waves. And even without his heightened senses, he could read Din like an open book.

“We will find her,” he promised, half to Din, half to himself. “But we can’t do anything right now. We’re stuck, so we need to rest.”

Din still didn’t move, and Luke didn’t push him, at least not yet. After a long, silent moment, the Mandalorian set the remainder of his armor down on the table, then reached up to pull his helmet off. But the movement made Din wince, a small, pained noise escaping him, and Luke was there in a heartbeat. Din’s hands fell to his side as Luke reached up and gingerly pulled the helmet off, setting it on the table with gentle hands before turning around to place both hands on Din’s face, holding his cheeks in his palms.

Their eyes met, and a breath caught in Luke’s chest as they both fell forward, foreheads pressing together. Din’s hands reached up to clutch Luke’s upper arms, and Luke’s hands slid to the back of Din’s head, holding him close.

They stayed like that, breathing the same air until a small, worried trill sounded from their feet. Instinctually, both men pulled apart and looked down.

Grogu’s eyes were glassy and wide as he stared up at them, and Luke didn’t hesitate to bend down and scoop him up. “Will you tell your stubborn _buir_ he needs rest?” he said, running a gentle finger over Grogu’s head.

The child’s ears were limp, hanging below his head, but they perked up as he turned to Din. One little green claw stretched up to his father’s face, too far away to reach, but the Mandalorian raised his non-injured hand to catch the little claw.

 _Worry_ seeped out of Grogu’s entire little being, and he hummed rather defiantly for how tired he was, then _lovelovelove_.

“See? Even Grogu thinks you need to rest.”

Din shot Luke a tired look but gave in. Slowly, the three of them made their way to the bedroom, Luke carrying Grogu and hovering near Din’s shoulder as he limped along.

Luke placed Grogu on the pillow of the bed, then turned to help Din. While the Mandalorian’s various articles of clothing gave Luke trouble in the early days of their relationship, it was with practiced ease that he now pulled away the remaining armor, the flak vest, the cape, the belt, dropping them to the floor in an unceremonious pile. After gently pushing Din to sit down on the bed, Luke dropped to his knee and went about tugging Din’s boots off, one after the other. The last thing he did was gently pull Din’s gloves off.

It was a testament to just how exhausted Din was that he didn’t protest to the assisted undressing. Usually, he would’ve put up more of a fight. But today, his eyes were shadowed, his mouth set in a thin line, and he remained silent until Luke finished, leaving Din in just his flight suit and underclothes.

Then, Luke began checking over his injuries.

It was not the first time and it would not be the last time that Luke silently thanked Din’s impenetrable beskar armor. It protected him better than Luke ever could, and that was an incredible comfort.

Most of Din’s injuries consisted of bruising from being tossed around by the dark troopers. But he had a few singed blaster wounds Luke had applied bacta spray on before he went to clean up the mess of troopers. An impact wound from his own helmet on Din’s forehead was already beginning to heal, but Luke still traced gentle fingertips over the mark.

But his hand…

Three of Din’s fingers were broken in at least two places, and his thumb was swollen, leaving only his pinky undamaged. Carefully, Luke turned the hand over in his own and gently pressed his palm against Din’s, offering a small amount of comfort. It also helped Luke reach out and try and assess the internal damage.

A small part of him lamented his lacking healing skills. Even Rey, untrained and abandoned in a desert for so many years, was a better healer than he. Grogu’s healing powers were worlds beyond his own, but through the years, Luke had spent many hours practicing. And while he was still and always would be a better fighter than a healer, he could at least pull away some of Din’s pain, even if it did little to actually heal him.

“This needs more medical attention than I can give,” he muttered, still focused on the hand, but he saw Din nod from the corner of his eye. “For now, you need to leave it bandaged.” After the battle, Luke had done his best to wrap the hand, but Din had a tendency to rip bandages off before he was done healing.

Luke pushed himself up off the floor, then went to rummage in one of the storage boxes pushed to the side of the room. He came back with a small splint and soft, fabric bandages, and went to work right away on Din’s hand. When he was done, he held it in both of his.

“You need to leave this on,” he said, giving Din a pointed look. “And let it rest. You can live with only one working hand for a little while. Trust me, I’d know.” The Mandalorian sighed but didn’t argue. A weak smile even quirked at one corner of his mouth.

When Luke stepped back and began tidying up Din’s things, he felt a hand catch his cloak.

“You also need rest, Luke.”

Din’s voice, rough and low from weariness, made Luke freeze.

“I will, just- you go to sleep, I need to put your things away, and my ship needs-“

Din didn’t even let him finish his sentence. “The droid can do that.”

Luke held his gaze for a long minute, Din’s good hand still holding tight to his cloak. And… Din was right. Luke needed to rest, even if his body still thrummed with a need for action.

“Fine,” he eventually agreed, shoulders going slack. “But only because I know it’ll help you rest, too.” Din might’ve been one of the most stubborn men in the entire galaxy, but Luke was a Skywalker, and Skywalkers were unmatched in their stubborn tendencies.

Compared to the effort it took to remove Din’s ridiculously complicated layers of clothes, it only took Luke a few seconds to shed his cloak, boots, and outer tunic. After a beat, he pulled off his glove, leaving the metal of his hand so painfully exposed. He flexed his fingers, then shook off the self-consciousness.

Down to his pants and soft long sleeve undershirt, he stepped back to the bed. Luckily, Din didn’t need to be told to move up and lay down, and Luke crawled onto the bed beside him, Grogu nestled between them.

The bed was, technically, too small for two grown men and one small, green child, but they were well-practiced at shaping around each other. They lay, forehead to forehead, but not quite touching, Din on his back and Luke on his side, one arm flung out over Grogu to rest his cybernetic hand on Din’s chest. Din’s soft, warm hand covered the metal and wiring, and it sent a tingle up Luke’s arm, just like it always did. His bandaged hand rested on his stomach.

Grogu was asleep within minutes, now that he had both parents curled around him. His little body was warm and relaxed against Luke’s chest, and one tiny claw clutched tightly to the sleeve of Din’s flight suit.

They did not speak as they lay there, but neither could find sleep.

Luke’s thoughts were in turmoil. Now that he was still, finally resting, there was nothing to distract him from everything clawing at the confines of his mind.

Rey _surrendered._ Despite the fact Luke and Din _surely_ could have defeated the troopers eventually, she’d left them and walked straight to the enemy. He knew it was to protect them, but Rey was a _child._ She was too young to make that kind of decision.

If Luke had been younger, he would’ve been angry. But instead, all he could feel was sadness, the same sadness that still washed over him from where Din lay so deathly still beside him.

“Can you feel her?” Din’s voice was barely more than a whisper.

Luke took a deep breath, closed his eyes, and _reached._ He reached deep within himself, then flung his entire being outward, searching for any flicker that was Rey’s incredible warmth. But while he could feel Leia’s familiar, constant presence in the back of his mind, and his superficial bond with Ben was stretched but intact, he could not feel Rey. He knew, logically, that it was probably just because she was so far away. Unlike Luke and Ben, and Luke and Grogu, he and Rey weren’t given enough time to form the same kind of mental tie that let him check on his padawans as best he could.

Still, the lack of connection was as painful as a knife to the chest, and his eyes felt watery when he opened them.

“No,” he whispered back. “But… But I think I would know if she were.. gone. I would now.” It sounded more like he was persuading himself than anything.

Din leaned ever closer, pressing their foreheads together with intention. Luke squeezed his eyes shut again.

“We’ll find her,” Din muttered, and Luke felt the determination pushing away the sadness in Din’s heart. “She’s-“

“One of ours, now, I know.” Luke sighed, then nestled closer to Din, one leg coming up to hook over the Mandalorian’s. “Whatever it takes, we’ll find her.”

He didn’t care if took visiting every kriffing planet in the galaxy, they _would_ find her, and they would bring her _home._

“But for now-“ he started, but Din’s breathy, tired laugh interrupted him.

“Rest, I know.”

Though it was small, a smile tugged at Luke’s lips. “Yes, rest. Which means _sleep.”_

Din huffed a small sigh, but his body relaxed more into the bed, into Luke’s body. They were both too tired, too frustrated, but they needed to recharge. Neither of them was any good to Rey if they didn’t take the time to recover.

Even if it felt impossible in the moment, eventually, Luke drifted off, lulled to sleep by Grogu’s soft snuffles and Din’s even breathing. There was much to do, come daylight, but for now, he focused on Din and Grogu and let himself be, temporarily, at peace.

**Author's Note:**

> yeah i have no explanation ill see myself out
> 
> (ig if by any chance anyone wants to see something Specific w this very particular au :/ im open to suggestions)


End file.
